


The Art of Lockpicking

by Chocoholic777



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Rejection, Sapphire being awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocoholic777/pseuds/Chocoholic777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer - I do not own anything in relation to the Elder Scrolls franchise.<br/>Profit was not made off of this piece.<br/>Story belongs to me.</p><p>This was in response to a misfire prompt of "Do you have any lockpicks?<br/>Because I want to play with your chest~"</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Art of Lockpicking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - I do not own anything in relation to the Elder Scrolls franchise.  
> Profit was not made off of this piece.  
> Story belongs to me.
> 
> This was in response to a misfire prompt of "Do you have any lockpicks?  
> Because I want to play with your chest~"

Another smooth click from an opened adept lock was a sound of triumph to Sapphire's ears. A rarity of an exultant smile graced her frosted berry lips after experiencing unrelenting fiascos of butchered jobs these past months. It seemed that bad luck has finally caught up with her, the "curse" as Delvin ominously states, has officially affected all of the Guild.   
Although she cares little for most of her Guild mates, the lone she-wolf could not find it within herself to get up and leave the crumbling organisation that was once fearfully respected has now reduced to being pitiful, openly joked about. After all there was Niruin, Cynric, Brynjolf and, most of all, Delvin; they are the closet thing she has for a family to trust and stand up for, who do so in turn for her. She still grits her teeth whenever she goes near Vex, who bluntly remarked that she was surprised the Nord hadn't ran off like half of the Guild. Damn that icy Imperial bitch.   
"Hi Sapphire," A thick, lilted voice addresses her, causing an innocent lock-pick to be snapped mercilessly between tightly curled fingers.   
Vipir.   
Composing herself for a few moments, Sapphire stands then turns to see her least favourite brother-in-crime, clad in grey leather Guild armour much like herself, casually leaning up against the master chest. Gods, her kinsman's habit of flirting always got on her nerves, still not getting the obvious hint she isn't interested in his smarmy, pathetic self who's desperate for a shag.  
"Yes Vipir?" The brunette inquires with faux pleasantness, poorly fluttering her long eyelashes to add an extra layer to her sarcastic attitude towards the supposed master of pickpocketing. She was prepared for whatever shot the bastard throws.  
"Do you have any lockpicks?" He genuinely asks, the irritating grin lessening into that of a soft smile.   
Okay. This wasn't what the Nordic beauty expected.  
"Sure... Why are you interested in lock picking?" Since you are so terrible at it, she mentally added but kept to herself.  
"Because I want to play with your chest~" Was the innuendo-laden response he given her, his silver eyes glint that matches the returning saucy grin plastered on his face.   
Instead of a snarky comeback or even a smite of warning, Sapphire retrieves then casually tosses a generous dozen lock-picks at the startled thief who barely catches all of the tiny, thin sticks of iron. Vipir still looks questioningly at the unexpected tools, turning his bemused gaze to the fellow thief resetting the lock then swaggers off to exit the training room.  
"Knock yourself out." She flippantly says over her shoulder, grinning to herself as Vipir stares frustrated after her retreating, voluptuous form.


End file.
